


instructions unclear

by noahfronsenburg



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Prolapse, Cervical Penetration, Cock & Ball Torture, Come Inflation, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, Don't Try This At Home, Enthusiastic Consent, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Femdom, Fisting, Lactation Kink, Large Cock, Multi, Nipple Play, Omorashi, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, Trans Male Character, Triple Penetration, Under-negotiated Kink, Unrealistic Sex, Unsafe Sex, Urethral Play, Vaginal Prolapse, Verbal Humiliation, Watersports, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 19:01:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17986832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahfronsenburg/pseuds/noahfronsenburg
Summary: prolapsed cervix: do not fuck





	instructions unclear

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

The very first thing that Rowena did after she jerked Gerolt’s belt free and yanked his trousers down past his ankles was pull out a length of rope and wrap it around his scrotum, pulling his sac down from his taint and then tying his balls apart. Gerolt whimpered the whole time she was going, until she slapped one of his testicles, already looking red and swollen, and he yelped.

“The trick,” Rowena told Ardashir, standing up and putting her hands on her hips, “To getting him to behave is to never let him have control of his cock. The instant he starts thinking with it, he’s a lost cause.” She lifted her foot, kicked off her shoe, and pressed the bottoms of her toes into Gerolt’s balls, squeezing them between her toes.

“Fuck off, woman,” Gerolt moaned, and Rowena made a very tired, aggravated sound. She squeezed him again, and then turned away.

“He’ll keep,” Ardashir agreed with her silent distate, shaking his head at the other man. “Besides,” he added, “you aren’t _supposed_ to be enjoying this, Gerolt.” Gerolt glowered at him, but Ardashir elected to ignore him completely.

“I,” Rowena was grinning as she dragged her palms down Ardashir’s chest, fingers flattening the lapels of his coat, “On the other hand, _am_. A favor is a favor, Blackthorn, and I will be making the very best of this one.” Ardashir had never particularly been interested in women, but he didn’t need to be; the purpose was not for him to be interested in Rowena, but for the two of them to be interested enough in one another that it pissed Gerolt off—she’d made her interest quite clear when Gerolt had been forced to call in her favor.

Her exact words had been, _I want to see what your cockwarmer is made of_. Rowena grinned up at Ardashir, smirking, and took hold of his cravat, pulled, dragged him down by it. The few ilmsArdashir had put on since he had initially met her meant that he did, actually, have to duck to reach her, and he settled his hands on her hips, her skin soft and supple with years of lotion and care. She kissed like she ran her shop: ruthlessly, and whatever Ardashir had been expecting, it was not this. He had not expected Rowena to bite his lower lip until he made a noise he had not been ready for, to push his jacket back off his shoulders and pull free the clasps and buttons of his vest, jerk it, too, off. Left in his shirt, Ardashir glanced toward Gerolt, sitting on the floor where Rowena had left him, kneeling with his hands on his knees, patiently waiting.

His cockhead was dripping, his loose slit oozing pre as he stared up at them.

“Pay no attention to the cock on the floor,” Rowena murmured, dragging Ardashir’s attention back to her by scraping her nails, long and hard, over his nipples through the cloth of his shirt and binder. “If he enjoys himself, all the better for us, I suppose.” She opened her mouth into the kiss, and Ardashir followed her lead, pushed her coat off and let it hit the floor, then undid the knot at the bottom of her shirt, pulled free the laces at her collar. She pulled back long enough to shuck it, and then took her sweet time undoing every single button on Ardashir’s shirt until she could drag it free of his breeches, toss it off.

In just her bra and the tight jean shorts she was wearing, Ardashir could appreciate her beauty, if not be attracted to it himself: she was a powerful woman, and age had treated her well, although he was certain she would eviscerate him if he said it. She glanced over at Gerolt and a strange look came over her face—she smiled at Ardashir.

“Gerolt always did love his tits,” she murmured. “Does he still love tits?”

Ardashir looked at him and laughed. “I can’t quite be sure,” he undid the laces at the side of his binder. “Do you like tits, Gerolt?”

“Fuck you,” Gerolt moaned, but didn’t move. “Fuck you, fuck you—“

“Good boys,” Rowena told him, “Don’t beg, and wait patiently.” She never looked away from Ardashir. “I heard hearsay that a certain someone procured an alchemical brew for our useless sot over there not too long ago; is that true?” She scraped her fingers up Ardashir’s stomach, pushed them under the bottom of his binder. “I always did want to find out if it had worked.” She pushed the laces free from the inside with the back of her knuckles, and peeled Ardashir out of his binder, shoved it to the floor.

His tits had barely grown in the last two years: they were still bee-stings, as Gerolt insisted on calling them, but always uncomfortably-swollen, as Jalzhan’s…. _concoction_ had been one that came with some unintentional side effects, in that the fact that it made Ardashir lactate never stopped; it was a constant problem, his tits always red and swollen and heavy, albeit still small. His nipples, elongated from two years of pinching and biting, dripped near-constantly, so his binder was less about hiding his tits and more about keeping his damn shirts clean.

Staring at his chest, Rowena bit her lip, reached out one hand and took Ardashir’s nipple, _squeezed_. He whined, a soft noise, as he squirted the tiniest bit of milk, rocking toward her hold. She did it again, harder, and then reached up with both hands, tugging and twisting on him as hard as she dared. Ardashir rocked towards her, crying out as he squirted onto her chest, his milk dripping pale white down her dark tits, into her cleavage, over her black bra.

The noise Gerolt made, from the floor, was like a man drowning. Rowena was grinning, flushed with arousal, and did it again, opening her mouth so a few drops hit her lips, the rest dripping down over the tops of her breasts. She squeezed both of Ardashir’s tits with either hand, pressing their aching, swollen weight flat with her palms, his nipples between her knuckles, and she rocked up to kiss him again, letting him mess her chest as he grabbed for the belt loops on her shorts, pressing his hardness to the fly.

“Take my bra off, pretty boy,” Rowena murmured, and Ardashir did not hesitate to obey, fumbling with the back of the clasp until it came open and fell off, swinging down to hang from her elbows. Another squeeze, another burst of milk from his tits, and this time it struck her breasts alone, painting white drops over the hard, dark pebbles of her nipples. “Those tits real sore?”

“Yes,” he begged, doing what she clearly wanted him to and squeezing her breasts; they were so much bigger than his, almost as big as Gerolt’s were, warm and soft with fat, her nipples hard against his palms. He thumbed her nipples, scraped his nails over them, and she made a soft noise of approval into his mouth, squeezed his tits harder, practically milking them into her cleavage, making him massage it into her chest. “Gerolt likes to make me _wait_ until I beg him to milk me.”

“Fuck,” Rowena said, her heartbeat fast in her chest, “That’s filthy.” Ardashir was dripping wet from the arousal in her voice, the fact that Gerolt was sitting there, watching open-mouthed as Rowena kissed him and milked him dry, days worth of build up oozing into her hands as she tortured his tits, and he gulped, swallowed. Rowena finally pulled back only after his chest was aching and he felt dazed, tangled one milk-wet hand in his hair and dragged him down by his ponytail, made him kneel, and stepped over his face. “Put your smart mouth to good use,” she told him, and pushed her crotch into his mouth, still in herjeans. It was power, all power, and Ardashir did as asked, mouthing at her cunt through the cloth, sucking the taste out of the denim until she let him lean up, pop the buttons with his mouth and pull the shorts down.

She wasn’t wearing anything underneath them, and Ardashir took in a quick, high breath, even as he heard Gerolt swear, his voice cracking. Her hair was trimmed to a small thatch, her lips swollen with arousal, spread open and leaking, dripping already—although not nearly as much as Ardashir knew his own cunt had to be, aching and trapped inside his breeches. Rowena pulled his head back by his ponytail again, and Ardashir went willingly, pressing his mouth into her, tonguing over the hardness of her clit, the depth of her slit.

“Not as tight as I used to be,” Rowena said, breathless as she rode his face, as Ardashir tongue-fucked her hole. “Not since the first time Gerolt bent me over the bed and fucked me, but I’m sure you’re quite familiar with the experience.” Ardashir made a noise of agreement, scraped his teeth over her clit and got her fingers tightening in his hair in approval. “Still, I never let him get as much as he wanted in there. But your fist, I think, should fit fine.”

Gerolt, somewhere, sobbed.

“So go ahead,” Rowena murmured, grinding into Ardashir’s mouth. “Fuck my cunt with your hand, pretty boy, and after I come on you, we can ruin the old man.” Ardashir didn’t bother to point out that Gerolt was only a year or two older than Rowena was, but he did as asked, keeping his mouth on her clit while he held onto her hip with his left, slid his right down between her thighs. She widened her stance slightly, to give him room to work, as he pushed three fingers in to check her slick.

They slid in without any resistance at all. So he added a fourth, and then, because the effort was clearly absurd without doing as asked, narrowed his hand and pushed it home without almost any effort, curled it into a fist inside Rowena. She clenched around him for a moment, adjusting to the pressure, and sighed, tugged his mouth more onto her clit. “Perfect,” Rowena murmured, her free hand squeezing her tit as she rode his face, rode his hand. “Someone around here can do as asked. Keep that up, pretty boy. Just like that.” She clenched around him, rode him faster, and came soon enough, squeezing his fist tight and moaning as she dragged his mouth further onto her clit, as he tongued over her, and then let him go, pushed his hand out.

Rowena took a moment to get her breath back, and then turned, planted her foot in Gerolt’s chest, and pushed him flat onto his back on the floor. “Get your legs open, Gerolt. Ardashir, slick his ass with me, will you?” Gerolt spread his thighs, and Ardashir, quite familiar with Gerolt’s loose ass, laughed and bent over him, curling his soaking fingers into the pucker of the other man’s hole.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected Rowena to do, but it was not to kneel down behind him. “Now,” she said, “Let’s see what he’s done to your poor cunt.” Her fingers over the laces of his breeches were deft, and she undid them fast enough, tugged his boots off and dragged his breeches down to join them, practically ripping his smallclothes off. Ardashir had three fingers buried into Gerolt’s ass when Reowena took hold of the cheeks of his ass and spread them wide, and he made a quiet noise as he felt cold air inside him. “Tighter than mine,” she murmured, pulling him wider, to watch his hole part. “Not one for anal, then?”

“Haven’t got the wiring for it,” Ardashir explained, his rim clenching as she dragged her fingertip over it. “Gerolt stopped fucking me in the ass as soon as he could get his cock in my cunt.”

“I can see that,” Rowena said drily, spreading his labia open. “Gods,” she said, her voice soft. Ardashir pushed out, pushed back against her, and knew from experience half his cunt spilled out of him. Rowena pressed four fingers into him, just as he shoved his hand into Gerolt’s ass, Gerolt hissing and spitting on the floor, his cock bright red and untouched, dripping, his balls an uncomfortable-looking purple. “Gerolt’s cock in here must be like throwing a sausage down a hallway. I could fit both my hands in there.”

“’s why I fuck his pisshole,” Gerolt muttered, and Ardashir flushed halfway down his chest, ducked his head and bit, hard, at the inside of the other man’s thigh, pulled outward on his rim with his knuckles. Gerolt yelped. “It’s _true_ , you brat!”

Rowena, curious, spread Ardashir’s lips further, and he obligingly spread his legs so she could duck below, push his clit up and stare beneath it. She pulled his inner lips wide, and then made a quiet noise of awe.

A fingertip, hesitant, pressed at his pisshole, and Ardashir _sobbed_ , rocking his hips back against her touch. “Yes,” he begged, as her finger slid home into him, curled up against his clit from the underside. Rowena thrust it, once, and then a second time. “Fuck, yes.”

“Don’t make him cum,” Gerolt said, from the floor. “He squirts.”

“I wonder _why_ ,” Ardashir snapped, unkindly, because he had squirted before Gerolt had practically made it impossible for him to hold his piss.

“There’ll be time enough for that,” Rowena murmured, pulling her hand back. Her footsteps crossed the floor of Gerolt’s cabin, and she returned a moment later. “Shift up, pretty boy.” Ardashir pulled his hand free from Gerolt’s ass, moved out of the was as Rowena sat down in his vacated spot, opened the pot of lube she’d taken from the workbench, took a glob and smeared it around the rim of Gerolt’s hole. “Gerolt might have made my ass so loose I worry sometimes it will never tighten up again, but he took as bad as he got,” she explained, and Ardashir watched, in awe, as she slicked the lube over her naked foot, up past her ankle. “Man likes being wider than both my fists, may as well indulge him,” she explained, and pressed her toes to Gerolt’s rim.

He shouted when she pushed her foot in, and it slid, in past the ball, and then to the heel. Rowena straightened her leg with the careful ease of long practice, turned it and then pressed home, until Gerolt was clawing at the floor, his voice cracking as he shouted again as she pushed deeper. “There’s his colon,” she muttered, pushing a little bit deeper, and then stopping, her leg in up to the shin inside Gerolt’s body. He was panting, flat on the floor, covered in sweat and begging, completely incoherently. Rowena tugged her leg back, just enough that Gerolt yelled again, pounding the floor, and then she stilled, gestured Ardashir over.

“Be patient,” she murmured to him, almost conspiratorially, taking Gerolt’s cock in hand. He yelled again, and his slit dripped, bubbling, as Rowena pressed one manicured fingertip to his slit and slid it into the head of his cock, his pre lubing the way. Not that his cockhead was tight; Gerolt had been sounding himself for years. Rowena was shorter than Ardashir was, but her hands were broader, her fingers thicker, and a second finger was almost a tight fit, Gerolt clenching around her and wheezing.

Rowena pulled her fingers apart, as wide as she could, until the dark center of Gerolt’s slit winked up at them both. Ardashir didn’t need her to tell him what she had in mind—he reached out and slid one finger in between hers, into Gerolt’s fat cockhead, and watched as he seized up off the floor, begging incoherently. “Shut him up, pretty boy, would you?” She said, pulling her fingers further apart until Gerolt shouted again. “Shove your fist in his mouth.” Ardashir laughed, leaned over to do it, and Gerolt opened his mouth without being told, let Ardashir press his fist in, knuckles tucked into the back of Gerolt’s throat, pressing on his gag reflex.

He was drooling helplessly, beard soaked in saliva, and his pupils were so blown that Ardashir could see nothing but black. He leaned over, kissed the corner of Gerolt’s mouth, licked up some of the saliva off of his cheek. Gerolt whimpered when Ardashir pulled back, turned to kiss Rowena over the man beneath them, and she tortured Gerolt’s cock until he was audibly begging even through his gags around Ardashir’s fist.

Finally, Rowena pulled her fingers out, let Gerolt’s slit close loosely around Ardashir’s finger. She pinched one of Ardashir’s tits again, pulled him over. “You’ve been such a perfect helper,” she told him, sweetly. “You’re the only person not enjoying yourself. Want to ride his cock?”

“Gods, yes.” Ardashir pulled his hand back from Gerolt’s throat, being mindful of his aching jaw. Gerolt immediately started begging again. He crawled over Gerolt’s pinned hips, spread himselfand bit his lower lip and just sat down on Gerolt’s erection, the width of it pressing hard against his pubic bone and then sliding home into his cunt; the time when he needed to take time to ease down was long gone. He squeezed down, sighed at the weight of being full, and then caught Rowena’s eye. “I have,” Ardashir explained, rocking back and forth as he settled himself down on Gerolt’s dick, gasping every time it dug, hard, into the base of his cervix, “Been told that there’s little to be gained from fucking my cunt nowadays. Gerolt often complains of how loose and useless it is.” Usually while cumming in him, though, so it was probably a moot point. Ardashir, however, knew what this was, and it was meant to be torture for Gerolt.

He lifted his hips, just enough up that there was space for a hand, perhaps. “Poor Gerolt,” Ardashir murmured, looking over his shoulder. “He wants to get his hand in my pisshole, but we all know that can’t happen. Rowena, do you think you could help?”

Rowena’s mouth was open. She fumbled for the lube again, slicked up the hand she’d been using to fuck Gerolt’s cock. “He squirts,” Gerolt moaned, voice cracking, and Rowena pinched the taut, purple skin of his balls, made him howl.

“You ever put your hand in a pretty boy’s pisshole, Blackthorn? I can’t say I have, and I’m not saying no to the offer.” Ardashir laughed, spreading his lips one-handed and leaning with his other on Rowena’s shoulder as she curled her hand up beneath him, pressing her fingertips to his urethra, three fingers at first, and then four, her pinky chasing in. He stretched around her, moaning, head thrown back and forcing himself to relax at the intrusion, being so  _incredibly_ fucking full. Rowena tucked her thumb; he could feel it at the entrance, rotated her hand briefly, and then pushed in.

Ardashir yelped, came, squeezing down hard on both Rowena’s wrist and Gerolt’s cock, and they all froze for a moment as he rode it, eyes shut and his entire body tight as a bowstring. “Wait,” he gasped, his thighs trembling to keep himself upright, since he couldn’t sink down. After he had his breath back, he relaxed—no squirting, just dribbling around the hand halfway up his urethra—before Rowena finished pushing it in, and Ardashir shouted, shivering all over as her hand popped through the inner sphincter, into his bladder.

“Seven hells,” Rowena whispered, turning her hand within him, “You’re so full.” Ardashir whimpered as she pushed back against Gerolt’s cock inside him, trying to orient herself inside his bladder. She pulled out, experimentally, tugging her wrist inside him and Ardashir yelped, seizing tight around her. “You’d never believe this,” she continued, talking to Gerolt over Ardashir’s body. “You had your cock in here?”

“Warm and sopping wet, slick and tight as hells _yes_ I have, woman.”

“You’ve felt nothing,” Rowena murmured, leaning up to kiss Ardashir, biting at his open, panting mouth. “His bladder’s so smooth on the inside, all slick and full of piss. When I ball my hand up, I can feel my knuckles through his skin,” she said, pressing up against the base of Ardashir’s clit, against the front of his stomach, and he screamed, dropping his head to her shoulder, crying overstimulated tears. “He _loves_ it,” Rowena kissed him again, turning her hand and pulling out, pressing up, and Ardashir was certain he was dying, his entire body trembling all over as what seemed to be an orgasm voided his mind of all thoughts, his slick leaking from where Gerolt was buried inside him, his pisshole stuffed so full he couldn’t drip.

The tub of lube scraped across the floor. “Get your hand in his ass,” Rowena ordered, and bit down, hard, on Ardashir’s nipple to get him to squirt into her mouth. “Let’s see how full he can get.”

“Gods,” Ardashir sobbed. “I don’t think—“ he could hardly breathe, his body was so full, his everything rearranged by the sheer amount that filled him, and Rowena bit the tip of his tit again, soothed it with her tongue. But Gerolt was already fumbling, three slick fingers pressing to his ass, and Ardashir lifted up without having to be told so they could hook into him, pulling out on his rim and massaging the lube in to get him slick before coming back, four fingers. “There’s not _room_.”

“You can do it,” Rowena promised him, her free hand pressed to the small of his back to keep him upright as she leaned forward, Gerolt yelping every time she fucked him deeper. The base of Gerolt’s knuckles were grinding into his rim now. “I believe in you.” Ardashir sobbed, toes curling as his entire body tightened, loosened, breathed, and Gerolt slid further in, down past the width of his knuckles. Gerolt might not fuck his ass, but Gerolt _fisted_ his ass regularly enough, sliding his hand in there to jack himself off as he fucked Ardashir’s cunt for a little more friction. The tuck of his thumb pushed at Ardashir’s rim.

“Like that,” Ardashir ordered Gerolt, leaning onto Rowena’s shoulder, staring down past her heaving breasts to where her hand vanished inside his urethra, just her dark wrist appearing from beneath his swollen clit, visibly throbbing in the curls of his pubic hair. He swallowed. “Push your hand in, Gerolt,” he added, and Gerolt did it, one solid press that his knuckles cleared Ardashir’s rim, popped into him.

He came again, then and there, crying helplessly, sobbing ugly tears into Rowena’s shoulder as the two of them filled him so tight he couldn’t breathe, could only think about how _desperately_ he had to fucking piss, how full he was. But the sensation didn’t let up, because Gerolt folded his fingers gently around the length of his cock from inside Ardashir, that thin inner wall stretching to accommodate, and then—

And then Rowena did the same thing within his bladder, and Ardashir realized the person screaming was _him_ , that was him screaming bloody murder as Rowena took Gerolt’s cockhead in hand, crushing his cervix in, Gerolt stroking his shaft. Ardashir couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. He wasn’t sure if this was an orgasm or was _dying_ , but he had never felt so good, and he just focused on breathing, on  _surviving_ , as he felt his entire body come apart, nails dug so hard into Rowena’s shoulder they were drawing blood.

Somewhere in there, when he felt like he could never take it any more, it would never end, he would die there, that full, Rowena kissed his drooling, open mouth, licked the tears from his cheeks. “Gerolt’s going to cum,” she told Ardashir. “I’m pulling out his arse.” Ardashir made some noise that he was sure read as approval, because Rowena pulled back, Gerolt lifting his hips and his cock digging harder into Ardashir’s cunt as he pulled his hand back out of Ardashir’s ass, half his rim falling out behind it from how fast it was, grabbing Ardashir’s hips to keep him steady on the cock and the hand currently spearing him as Rowena worked her foot back out of Gerolt’s loose ass.

“You think your rose is bad,” Gerolt muttered, and Ardashir laughed as his hips hit the floor, jostling Ardashir atop his cock. “Hells, Rowena, feels like half my ass is out.” Ardashir reached down to feel, and moaned himself at the curl of Gerolt’s rim, prolapsed out, squeezed and pinched it before he pushed it back in blindly, Rowena still using just one hand as she undid the knots on Gerolt’s balls, her other hand still up Ardashir’s urethra, pressed gently against his walls, keeping him from spilling even as his body rebelled, too-full.

“I’m pulling my hand out,” Rowena warned Ardashir, “I’m pinching you shut, so don’t spill.” Ardashir made a broken noise, but nodded, bit his lip. She did it slower than Gerolt had on his ass, more careful, but no gentler, her knuckles bumping and grinding on that long, narrow passageway, now irreparably loosened, as she pulled out. He started to piss, dribbles, but then Rowena had his lips clenched shut, so tight Ardashir yelped, to keep him from pissing.

She kissed Ardashir’s mouth. “Want him deeper?” She asked, and Ardashir nodded. Gerolt put his hands on his hips, pushed Ardashir further down. Gerolt’s broad cockhead dug into his cervix so painfully, so hard, his vision went white behind his eyes. Rowena put her free hand on Ardashir’s hip, pushed harder down. “Rock back and forth,” she told him, and he did it, grinding his entire weight onto Gerolt’s cockhead, felt it as it pushed into the center of his cervix, that tiny opening. It’d had things in it before—Gerolt’s fingers, for one—but never— “Harder, find the right angle,” Ardashir whimpered, shifted, stopped when Gerolt’s cockhead was dug into him at such an angle his stomach felt like it was going to bust.

“There,” he sobbed, voice cracking. “There, there—“

Rowena shifted her foot and stepped as hard as she could on Gerolt’s balls. He bellowed in pain, his hips launching up off the floor, the inexorable strength they were all exerting onto Ardashir throwing his entire weight down. Gerolt’s cockhead pressed into his cervical os, pressed _harder_ , and then, in a moment of pain so intense Ardashir almost blacked out even as he came, shrieking, Gerolt’s cockhead burst through, popped into his womb.

And he came. Gerolt came, cockhead buried in Ardashir’s cervix, thrusting deeper until it was banging the top of his womb on every jolt of his hips, the pressure of it making Ardashir _wail_ as he came again, so many times he’d lost count, Rowena moaning aloud as she apparently came just from the sight of it, grinding her cunt into the floor beneath her. “ _Gods!_ ” Ardashir sobbed, pressed his hand to his belly, to feel as Gerolt’s cum started to pour into his womb, filling it, bursting past his cervix. There was so much it seemed impossible, pouring into him, filling him up until he felt stretched and sore. “Gerolt, Gerolt, please,” Ardashir begged, pushing down on him, another half-ilm sliding past his cervix. Gerolt rocked back, pulled out to the rim of his glans, fucked in again, and another spurt of cum was filling him, Ardashir’s body stretching to accommodate.

“This is the filthiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Rowena moaned, as Ardashir wailed, impaled what felt like straight through on Gerolt’s cock. “I can see your womb,” she marvelled, and Ardashir shuddered, clenching down around Gerolt’s cockhead—and there was another burst of cum, spurting into him. Gods, he could get pregnant from this, he realized, from Gerolt’s cum painting his womb like Gerolt owned the place.

“Can I piss,” Gerolt moaned, and Ardashir laughed, hysterical. “May I—“

“Yes,” Ardashir whispered, and Gerolt grunted, thrust deeper again, grazing the top of Ardashr’s uterus again, sending a spike of crazed arousal down his spine as the other man pissed inside him, the volume of it filling him up until Ardashir was gagging, so full he felt like he needed to puke. He swallowed, throat clicking, as Gerolt stopped being taut beneath him, and cupped his hands under Ardashir’s thighs, started to lift him up, pulling.

Ardashir’s cervix apparently had different ideas. Gerolt kept pulling out, spitting between his teeth, and Ardashir yelped as Gerolt pulled, tugged, hissing. “Not letting my damn cock go,” he grumbled, Ardashir leaning back, until Gerolt pulled his soft cock free at last—and most of Ardashir’s cunt came with it, his cervix and heavy, cum-inflated womb hanging out. He needed to piss, needed to piss and _more_ , and he stared down in wide-eyed, blackout arousal at the sight of half his vagina turned inside-out, red, battered flesh spilling onto the base of Gerolt’s stomach, his bloated cervix bleeding slightly, oozing from the middle.

Rowena was still pinching his urethra shut. “We’ll get it back,” she murmured, a promise, helped Ardashir roll slightly forward, rocked onto his knees, never let his pisshole go. Between the two of them, Ardashir gently shifted to his back, his thighs spread wide and his inside-out pussy hanging between his thighs where his hips were lifted. Rowena knelt in front of him, her own cunt over Gerolt’s face, and she pressed her fingers to her clit, moaning as she pinched it a few times. “If you’re so damn thirsty,” she told Gerolt, “Then stop drinking your damn liquor and drink this instead.”

Rowena let go of Ardashir’s urethra, and the both of them, nearly at the same time, let go. Rowena clearly did hers intentionally, bending down so that her urine hit Gerolt full in the face, the stream splashing in his mouth and over his cheeks, while Ardashir’s pisshole, abused and fisted, had nothing holding it shut except sheer force of will, and he cried out as he pissed. His stream was far weaker than Rowena’s, with so much more room to go through, spurting onto Gerolt’s face as best he could, golden urine matting the hair on the man’s chest. Gerolt sputtered through it, eyes squeezed shut as they both pissed on him, until Rowena finished her own stream and sat down in it, spread her lips and pressed her swollen clit into Gerolt’s mouth.

“Make yourself useful,” she told him, and Ardashir could tell the moment Gerolt got his tongue on her because Rowena started moaning, beckoned Ardashir to slide closer. He did so after a moment, leaning up and taking her hand, so weak with orgasm he could barely move. Rowena dragged him closer, closer, until she reached down between his thighs, stroked the heavy tail of his vagina, oozing and dripping where it sat. “Poor dear,” Rowena murmured, sliding her hand deeper, pushing his prolapse partway back into him as she wrapped first one hand, then the other, around Ardashir’s cum-and-piss inflated womb. “All full. We’d better squeeze this back out.” She paused, moaning, as she came on Gerolt’s face, squirting into his mouth, and then sat up, Gerolt gasping for breath as she took hold, tightly, of Ardashir’s inside-out vagina, and  _squeezed_.

He screamed, and a pressurized stream of Gerolt’s cum and piss struck the man in the mouth. Rowena squeezed again, gently but firmly, and another one came out, and another, until Ardashir could no longer sit up, sprawled oversensitive and moaning wordlessly. He bucked his hips up into every impossible push and pull to his vagina, now hanging most of the way outside his body, arching his hips into the aftershocks because his body couldn’t come again, too far gone, too exhausted. It seemed to take forever for Rowena to coax him further down, to press his prolapse into Gerolt’s mouth and make him suck the rest of it clean, tonguefucking the loose ring of Ardashir’s cervix, licking inside him to be certain that he was empty.

“We’ll put you back in a moment,” Rowena promised, Gerolt helping Ardashir sit up, his hips angled up as Rowena took his prolapse in her hand again. She moaned, squeezing it one last time, oversensitive and raw, and spread the lips of her pussy, bent down. “You want to fuck me?” She asked.

“ _Yes_ ,” Ardashir sobbed, and Rowena pushed, pushed down, pulled him in, and his prolapse popped into her cunt, slid inside her, into her hot, wet tightness, so much that he just lay there, held onto Gerolt’s hand and begged Rowena for he wasn’t sure what, while Gerolt sat next to him and panted, desperately, staring at them both like he was dying because he wasn’t getting to help, as Rowena ground their mounds together, her clit dug into the side of Ardashir’s thigh.

“Oh,” Rowena kept gasping, little moans. “Oh, oh, oh. So big. Oh, you’re so—soft—“ until she came, clenching down so hard that Ardashir could only hear ringing in his ears, his entire body in total overdrive to sensation, to something he knew shouldn’t be possible, an experience that was making him—he’d never be the same again.

When Rowena pulled off his prolapse, like it was a _cock_ , it drooped out of her, soft and sopping with her slick.

“Gerolt,” she told him, “Put your pretty boy’s cunt back for him.”

Gerolt’s fingers pressed into Ardashir’s prolapse, squeezed his cervix gently, and pushed.

Ardashir screamed, and it was euphoria, as Gerolt slid his vagina back where it was meant to be, turned him right-side-in, and he knew he needed Gerolt to fuck his cervix every time, he needed it—needed it—

Ardashir blacked out, squriting as Gerolt pushed his prolapse back into his body, rocking his hips up off of the floor and sobbing.

When he woke up, he felt like half his body was bruised, and he was pinned in bed, sprawled over Gerolt’s chest, face mashed into the other man’s armpit. He smelled clean, like soap, and Rowena’s body was pressed to his back, her breasts warm and soft against his shoulderblade. They were talking quietly, and Gerolt kissed the curve of Ardashir’s shoulder when he stirred, the broad-palmed hand on the side of his hip squeezing reassuringly.

“Gerolt?” Ardashir asked softly, startled by how hoarse and ragged his voice was. “Owe Rowena more favors.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah rowena's in her 4.3 clothes because jeans sexy dont @ me


End file.
